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totothewolff · 2 months

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Chemtrails Over the Yacht Club Collection

[🗯+18][👩‍❤️‍👨 Toto x reader(fem service staff)][💘 Romance][🥵Smut][🎀 Age-gap][❤️‍🔥Daddy Kink][🛳Yacht Culture][✍️WIP]

Summary: The number of sleepless nights you spend thinking about what you would say to his face, to that gorgeous, gorgeous face, if he ever dared to cross your path again. And now here he is, that fucker! Did he get amnesia or something?! Why is he acting so calm? As if Toto didn't leave you the way he did? The fact he still looks at you that way after all the years, and that he is aging like a fine wine, looking even better with those couple of years added to his age, still fit, still charming, still intimidating, still him, it doesn't help you remain angry at him for abandoning the ship.

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3 - Not all who wander are lost

Your life after Toto and college has gotten much better. You like your current job. It's not the highest salary, but it's enough to enjoy yourself, buy cute clothes, and invest in revamping the apartment you once shared with your aunt.

It's nothing glamorous, though. It's just some cosmetic repairs and better decor, but you couldn't imagine affording it before.

Humidity is such a bitch in Monaco. There's more hidden inside those walls than you expected when you started restoring them.

Your phone buzzes in the front pocket of your washed-down tiny shorts, which you wear with an old oversized T-shirt. A proper attire for working with paint!

A text from an unknown number arrived.

"Are you in town?" it reads.

You dismiss it and continue your Bob The Builder activities.

"I'm near your place," comes a following text.

"Hi, wrong number! No idea who you are."

"This is Y/N's number, right?"

"Yes... but who is it?"

Now, you need help. All your friends and family are in your contacts, but a photo loads in the chat before you can text back.

It's a picture of one of Toto's hands. His long finger appears in the photo as he is about to press the bell button on your unit building.

It takes you a minute to grasp the reality of what the fuck is going on.

Okay, this is indeed happening.

This is not one of your fever dreams.

Don't panic! Don't panic!

Fuck. It's been a while.

Fuck! Fuck!

For the past four years, you have successfully avoided the thought of him.

You even feared it back in the day, knowing quite well what the mementos of Toto did for your body.

You did your best to get clean from him, casting Toto away from your heart and body till there was left no trace of him in you at all.

And now this?! Shit.

But your body reacts on its own and instinctively for you, hitting the entrance button fast.

A buzzing sound on the front door allows Toto to access your building.

What the fuck?! That was a fast reflex.

Toto's footsteps on the stairs and the soft knocks on your door follow.

You walk so quickly to get the door, more than you feel proud to admit, already feeling the self-love leaving your body by your actions.

Fuuuuuuck.

The view that greets you feels like something out of a stupid rom-com movie. Argh! He is why you despise those films and distrust men, romance, and relationships.

Toto looks gorgeous as fuck! With that stupid beautiful face and those ridiculous bambi eyes he is putting on, holding those silly flowers, and wearing that tailored suit, accentuating his best features.

He is aging like a fine wine and looks even better with those couple of years added to his age. Still fit, still charming, still intimidating, still him.

He is holding a massive bouquet for you. In his other hand, he carries a paper bag with a bottle of wine and other items inside.

"This one is for you." The sound of his deep voice reaching your ears brings back many memories, more than you can handle.

To your lack of response, he moves to place the flowers in your hands, watching you frozen before him, and then reaches closer to kiss your cheek as a greeting, way close to your lips.

The warm touch you feel in the corner of your mouth takes you out of the trance and back to reality.

This is happening, he is here. It's not one of those frantic dreams you used to have, ala Bella Swan.

"And this is for your aunt," he adds as he walks past you and enters your place.

He goes straight to leave the bag on the brand-new trendy table you recently bought. That table is pulled in a corner away, safe from the chaos and the paint.

Toto is already walking around your apartment as if he had the right to it, checking out what's happening.

"It's a good thing you haven't changed your phone number! That's a nice wall color," he tells you with a big smile, his beautiful teeth showing.

Did he get amnesia?! Why is he acting so calm, as if he didn't leave you like he did and in pieces?

"Us regulars can go with just one phone number our entire lives, you know?" There's a hint of anger hidden in your first words to him. It's been a while, yet it feels like yesterday.

Oh, the number of nights you spend fighting to sleep in your bed, thinking about what you would say to his face if he ever dared to cross your path again, to that gorgeous, gorgeous face.

And here he is, the fucker! What a nerve.

You move peacefully to place the flowers in a vase, which is contrary to how you feel inside. Still, you frown but hold your feelings. You bite your tongue not to lose it.

Silence reigns for a moment.

"Are you planning on moving out?" Toto asks, his voice lingering with worry and nervousness. He points with his finger to the revamping.

"No, I'm just making it my own since now it's just me here."

His eyebrows go up immediately. "Is your aunt..?" He doesn't get to finish his question as you instantly reply, interrupting him.

"She moved in with her longtime boyfriend. It took her a while to finally decide to move out, and she kept returning to the apartment most of the nights, knowing I didn't cope well with those changes. She feared I could go back into a bad place... once again."

"The one you sent me to. Thanks for all the mess you caused me!" it's what you feel like screaming at Toto, but you don't. You are grasping at composure with your nails.

Toto stares at you solemnly, sensing the mood shifting. "Frankly, it's going better than I hoped for. I'm surprised you are not screaming at me or slapping me so far," he expresses with a smirk, arms on his hips, flexing those biteable, toned arms.

Your eyes finally move from the water stream coming from the tap to face him. Hurt is visible in them. "It's been years, Toto. You chose to move on without me, and so I did."

He clears his throat before slowly walking closer to you, closing the gap between you, and stepping over the splatted plastic covering the brand-new wooden floors on his way to you. It's the only sound heard in the apartment.

You feel a nervousness in the base of your stomach as his towering body approaches.

"Answer me this question," he looks at you so intensely. You lean on the kitchenette counter, his body almost trapping yours against it. "Do you regret me?" he whispers, his body nearly touching yours.

You take a minute to answer.

"I do regret..." you answer, each word gaining momentum. You pause to look up straight into Toto's eyes. The man looked so hopeless for a second. "...not taking that juicy tip you offered me." You let out with a smile, feeling victorious.

You lil' shit.

If he wants to play some game this time, it will be with your rules.

As the bottle of wine reaches its end and the coat of paint on the wall is almost complete, he taunts you with the fresh brush he's holding, getting you an ivory splat of paint on your forearm with a cheeky smile.

You playfully toss yours on his way, staining his nose. You two start making a mess, throwing paint at each other.

"Hey! Don't fuck up my clothes! Is this a cheap excuse to make me take off my shirt?" he teases you.

"Oh, no, none of that! I love myself nowadays!" you snap back, laughing.

"Fuck you," Toto pushes you to the side.

"Let's grab dinner somewhere. I'm getting high with this smell!" Toto invites you.

And you accept.

Being around him feels so good. Indulging yourself with him is fixating and delicious, like a fantastic drug. You have his full attention, and you can make him laugh and smile like that and make him look at you with those eyes.

The moment he reaches your cheek over the table and caresses it with his hand and thumb, provoking you to close your eyes and seek more of his touch immediately, wanting the contact of his warm skin with yours desperately, makes you feel like a trained pet coming back to his master, and it breaks something inside you.

God, you used to be desperate for him, craving anything he gave you. No matter if it were crumbs, you would settle for anything to have him. Gosh, you were so young and dumb.

By the moment you get the question, Toto silently asks you with his eyes, as he drops you back at your place later that night after spending a great time together downtown.

After you two, you don't want to throw around the word "date," but yeah, basically, you just had one. You feel decisive enough to say no, even if, in reality, you were scared of what Toto provoked you only by a simple touch.

Oh, and to think there was a time when the simple idea of Toto taking you someplace fancy, out of that fucking Yacht Club, in public, opening doors for you, pulling your chair, looking at you with sparkling eyes across the table, and sharing soft touches here and there, was something you only could dream of and used to beg for it to happen back in the day.

As you take off his jacket, the one he gave you to keep you warm in the nightly breeze, both of you stand by the entrance door of your building. His eyes speak volumes to you, almost in a plea to let him inside, into your life once more, into your bed and your core.

You feel his nose tenderly brushing yours, the warmth of his mouth brushing your lips, his muscular arm stretching next to your face as he leans in on you.

"Good night, Toto. It was great seeing you," you say almost in a whisper, getting on your tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek before entering your place without looking back.

Every once in a while, texts from Toto start to arrive.

As the days go by, your chat remains active, not daily, but every week.

Here and there, you two have a casual call to share, you know, life or when important things happen.

Maybe once a month, you find yourself Facetiming with him when you feel you miss or need him, even if you hate to admit it.

The number of instant likes he gives you on Instagram every time you post something —the only social media account you, and he have— constantly reminds you that Toto is there, looking over you.

It doesn't matter if you appear in those photos hanging out with random dudes or kissing your new Portuguese boyfriend. Toto still leaves you a like, maybe just to let you know he saw it or that he is still there for you and that none of it matters.

He always knows all about your new relationships anyway.

How can the two of you talk about each other's love lives? Well, it's mostly about your love life. Toto only has flings, and sometimes, he doesn't even remember the girls' names.

But still, none of you can even dare to mention your past one, the one you two shared, which needs to be studied.

Almost two years later, Toto randomly shows up in person at your place again and at a terrible time.

You are still dealing with your painful breakup with now the French boyfriend, which Toto knows as "The One," and you are all frail.

You believe Toto showed up to be a supportive friend since, by accident and while entirely drunk, you confessed to him on a call you made him in the middle of the night. That same night, right after Manu ended things with you and you sought comfort in a bottle and Toto's voice, revealing to him how you felt Manu was the one, that this one truly hurt, not as much as when he left you, but close enough.

But you had no idea how to fix things since Manu asked you to get rid of "this weird dynamic" before the two could move further. "To leave the other relationship you have! Which sometimes feels like the real one!" Manu confronted you, raising his voice, angry and jealous, referring to "him", to Toto.

You and Toto are having the most friendly chit-chat, chilling around in your finally-completed, rebuilt place. When he lets you know, he will be staying in Monaco for weeks.

"I'll be staying at the Yacht Club," he says and looks amused at your reaction to his words.

"Shocker!" you answer, pulling a faux stunned face, making him chuckle.

"Well, not so. That place has outstanding customer service! 5 out of 5." His eyebrows go up and down several times, teasing you and hinting about your past whereabouts. "Well, still..."

"Oh, so you are fucking the girl in turn?" escapes your lips, without much thought, interrupting him.

Yes, you are still bitter after all these years, even if you like to pretend you aren't. Four? Five years have passed?

"I didn't mean that," he clears his throat before answering. "You cut me halfway through the sentence, well, still... it's not the same without you. That's what I was going to say."

"Oh, please, don't mind me if you are doing so! It's none of my business. Just, if you have another fiance you want to leave, please inform the girl she's an excuse beforehand." You start vomiting words coming from deep within you, out of nowhere.

Shit, you have been so emotional lately, and his presence is not helping.

It gets quiet and awkward so fast.

"You weren't an excuse. You were the reason," Toto confesses, getting visibly irritated too.

"Weren't you already running away from her? That's why you arrived there in the first place! Before you put it inside me, isn't it? And to what?! To immediately leave me? That makes total sense. How romantic!"

"It wasn't the right time for what you asked me for. You were too young, and we just had met to move together that fast. I wasn't ready for that then, to take you fully as my responsibility. It was for the better. I don't regret my actions." He sounds dead honest.

"I wasn't?! Then?!"

You roll your eyes at him, and you're done with the conversation. You change the subject. You don't feel like going to war right now.

The following day, at dawn, Toto is already there at your place, all joyful, with iPad in hand, as if you hadn't discussed heavy subjects last night.

He always looks too comfortable in your place, claiming the armchair for himself as usual.

Some minutes later, another couple of knocks come on the door. Toto quickly gets up, stretching those long muscular legs as if he knew who was on the other side.

He slides in his socks like a kid on the now freshly cleaned wooden floor and avoids stepping on the Roomba currently doing its work on his way to the door.

He lets in his hot, busty redhead assistant.

She enters your kitchen holding two massive fancy paper food bags. Toto made her get you breakfast from your favorite dinner in town. He still remembers which one is and your order.

As you finish setting the table, his assistant prepares him his coffee, grabbing things from your drawers.

Yeah, girl, go ahead! Feel free!

Halfway through your Croque Madame, you remember you need to install a higher bookshelf, so you ask Toto for his help.

"I don't do any of that, but my people will handle it. Please leave it to me, anything you need." He offers you a big smile. "You know that, right?" he looks straight at you, placing his fork down on the table for a second. Anything you need, you just ask, a quick text or a call," he leans forward on the table. "And I will get it done."

Your face shifts to an expression he wasn't expecting and a prominent frown forms on your eyebrows. "Oh! Now you do that, huh?! Good to know!" you let out, angry.

Fuck, here it comes.

He stares at you, serious. Everything goes silent.

"Y/N..."

"It's not like I had asked you for something before!" you laugh off, resentful. "Not a single "I'm sorry" has come out of your lips, yet"

"Kid, I won't ask for your forgiveness since I don't regret what I did. I told you that before." he sounds solemn now, his smile fading.

"Don't call me kid," you answer, rage building up.

Okay, you sense those repressed feelings pouring out of you.

"Then stop behaving like one." He sounds so calm, but his voice is more in-depth than usual. His beautiful dark eyes dispatch you a glare.

Oh, he is mad but not as furious as you are.

"Would you mind?!" you let out loud, losing it at the noises coming from the kitchen amidst your fight. You turn your head to the hot girl still doing shit for Toto at the counter.

Okay, that was rude of you, but you are pissed off.

She looks at you, perplexed, before nodding and exiting the place to give you two some privacy.

"I don't have to take shit in my own house," you warn Toto, returning your attention to him.

"You are the one who allowed me in. You let me spend all the time I want here and be by your side whenever I feel like it. Oh, please don't tell me it didn't cross your mind all things that could happen by doing so?"

"Oh, right, then save me the fights. Why don't you go back to stay gone? How about that?! Why don't you leave, better? I mean, you have done it before."

"Y/N," he sighs your name, exasperated, his hand going through his hair, a tic he has.

"No, seriously, 'cause I did fine without you! Or do you need to fuck me first to disappear then?"

HOLY FUCK! Are you going to take things that far? Phew.

Toto looks visibly hurt at your words, but he only slightly nods. He is still sitting in the chair across the table from you, arms tightly crossed, his tight shirt showing his muscles.

Then Toto starts shaking his head in an "I'm about to lose my cool" way.

Yet you dare to push for more. You want to let it all out of your system. You have been holding, eating, and carrying these feelings for years!

You go on: "Let me ask you the same question then, you showed up here, don't tell me you weren't expecting this," you point with your finger referring to this exchange, "to happen at some point after you used me relentlessly for your enjoyment and pleasure, and then left me out of the blue, not caring about my feelings, why don't you use that energy better to..." tears are menacing to slide down your eyes, you lose it and he looks like he does too.

Toto looks at you with such dangerous intensity that he gets on his feet and drops his hands on the table forcefully before leaning in his tall body and overpowering you.

You immediately shut up, witnessing his reaction.

His body language screams at you, "Abort, abort, danger."

"Go on," a threatening sound comes from his trembling lips. It's both a command and a whisper. His long nose is almost touching yours. You can feel his anger and the extremely tense static in the air. "What were you about to say?"

"...To fuck another idiot who is willing to keep your bed warm, like I was." you let out against his mouth.

"You know quite well there's no other like you," he says without hesitation. He looks angry in capital letters.

Toto starts walking your way, rounding the table. He looks menacing.

You feel intimidated for a brief second before adding the killer punch, "Were you just looking where put your dick in?"

"That's enough!" In a quick move and with a firm grip, he pulls you up from the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist, and smashes his body and yours against the wall, pressing himself on you, no inch of space, trapping you between his warm body and the cold wall.

He starts whispering to your ear and neck, "I keep coming to your place because I can't bear to be in my villa without looking at the bed and desiring you wrapped around me, to be buried deep inside you, to have you moaning and begging me for more, don't you think that every corner of that place reminds me of you loving me" his hand slide from your calf to your tight. At the same time, he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your lips.

"I fucked your twin the night you didn't let me come in. You have no idea what number of girls I have called your name. They all look like you," he confesses to you between a ravenous kiss as you run your hands on his hair and undo his shirt.

You feel the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins as your eyes lock and memories flood you until you finally articulate, "I missed you."

The corner of Toto's mouth twitches upwards into a small smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "I missed you too, kid," he replies, a hint of huskiness in his tone that is too much for you to bear.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, drinking you in like a thirsty man, and you suddenly feel naked under his gaze.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He still wears the one you picked for him, the one you liked, the one that was for you. His eyes meet yours again, and you mirror back that same hunger.

The years apart melt away like a morning fog, with it, the anger, pain, and regret.

His lips brush over the curve of your neck, and Toto starts pressing in circles his erection against your thighs and core. You let out a gasp, the pleasure so intense that you break away from him.

"We shouldn't," you mumble, struggling for air. Toto's hand reaches up to cup your cheek, and you feel his smile against your lips.

"Yes, we shouldn't," he echoes your words, but his fingers are already tracing your lower lip, as addictive as always.

"But we will," you say as your fingernails dig into his now naked back, and you pull him closer by the waist, your legs still wrapped around him, and he captures your lips in a more urgent, passionate kiss as his dick get pressed hard against your core.

With each piece of clothing sliding from your bodies, the more urgent you two become. As if you two were magnetically drawn to each other, you stumble towards the bed, unable to separate a second.

He carries you there while kissing you, stumbling and throwing stuff to the floor by accident in the desperate pursuit to merge your bodies.

"You have no idea the number of times I have jerked off to your boudoir photos; I need new ones," Toto mumbles as his intense gaze looks into your soul, stirring sensations that you had long tried to bury, memories that you had attempted to obliterate.

His thumb finds its way to your lips, gently pressing against the softness, leaving an imprint of his skin on yours before his mouth reaches your breasts, taking a rigid nipple within his lips, teasing it with his teeth and tongue until you cry out.

When he releases it, Toto turns his attention to the other breast, showering it with the same love and desire.

His hard-on is pressed into you, eager and persistent, a hot, demanding presence between your thighs. You let out a moan as you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer. With every lap of his tongue over your sensitive flesh, you feel your hips bucking against him.

You want him to fill the void he'd left behind inside you. The throbbing of your pussy lets him know just how much it craves him.

Toto pauses for a moment as he takes in the sight of your sweat-slicked body, your heaving chest straining with every shallow breath. He reaches down and wraps his fingers around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance.

You feel the head of his dick rubbing along your swollen, aching lips, the warmth of his skin so intense.

Toto leans back, his brow furrows with concentration, and with a crude growl, he pushes himself hard inside you.

You let out a guttural moan as he fills you balls deep, your bodies connecting in the most delicious of ways. After a second, his hips start to move in earnest, pounding into you with focused intensity.

There is no time for tenderness or affection, just two bodies engaging in an animalistic rhythm fueled by pent-up lust and long-denied desires.

Your nails cling to his sweat-dampened muscular shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as he smashes your pussy so hard.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed your tightness, this pussy," he grunts, withdrawing slowly before slamming back into you with bruising force.

The bed squeaks and creaks beneath you, and your intense pleasure movements shake the bed frame as well.

You can feel every inch of him, the veins snaking down the length of him, the hot, heavy weight of him inside you. "Daddy, more!" you cry out. He groans and flexes his hips again, grinding deeper.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room as he starts to piston in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

You hear the slaps of skin on skin as he thrusts you harder, as well as the growls of pleasure and the filthy, dirty talking that comes out from both your mouths.

It feels as glorious as you remembered it, this relentless pounding leading you to a fantastic climax.

"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy," you moan eagerly, hips colliding with his.

Toto is really here, plunging you deep and hard all those years without him. Your hands grip the sheets, and you arch your back as his thickness claims you entirely.

"Fuck yeah," Toto's voice is almost unrecognizable between your gasps and moans. "That's it, kid, take it all."

The scent of sweat and sex clings heavily in the air as you feel like your body might shatter with each push into you.

His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you to another position again, and you claw and scratch at the sheets beneath, searching for something to ground you as he fucks you so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't ever stop," you moan desperately, your teeth grit as Toto gives it to you relentlessly.

"I'm so close, fuck!"

You are his, completely and utterly his, after all these years. It's inexplicably raw and shows in how you two devour each other at that moment.

"Oh," Toto moans loudly. His cheeks are all red, and his eyes are becoming watery.

Loud and extended growls from both of you start coming out as you reach your peaks.

Within a second, you feel yourself releasing with such force, unable to hold yourself a minute more.

"Unf, kid, you are so gorgeous," Toto moans out as he enjoys the view of you, his eyes filled with lust as he watches you climax in front of him.

He is barely able to thrust you three times more before pulling himself out, quickly and between groans, while you stroke his cock, feeling him release over you, his warm cum dripping in your skin and his big dick throbbing on your belly.

When Toto wakes up after taking a much needed post-angry sex nap and doesn't feel your body resting on top of his, he instantly knows what it means.

"Until you are willing to say I'm sorry, don't forget to close the door on your way out."

He reads on the sticky note you left for him on the door.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

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thefrogman · 5 months

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You asked in a tag if anyone wants photos restored. I'm actually looking to get some of my mum's old photos restored, if possible! Are your services for hire? And if not, can you recommend anyone?

I am for hire!

Some things to know...

Not all photos are good candidates for restoration depending on their condition. While almost every photo can be improved, I cannot guarantee a perfect restoration on every photo. And some may be so far gone that you may not find it worth the expense.

I will do an initial assessment for free and give you an idea of what is possible. Since some photos require a much more complicated restoration I cannot give you a set price. Once I have evaluated the photos you want restored I will give you a quote for each one depending on complexity. You can choose which photos you want to restore from there.

Also, I am able to do colorization on *some* photos. So please indicate if that is something you may be interested in.

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To get the best results it helps to have a very high quality scan of the photo. I can still do magic if all you have are old scans or smartphone snaps, but a proper high resolution scan will always give you the best end result.

If you have a scanner...

Send me the brand and model of your scanner. I will research the best settings and give you a step-by-step guide for how to scan the photos.

If you do not have a scanner...

I can give you instructions for how to take high quality photos of your photos. A smartphone is fine for this process. Please send me the brand and model of the phone or camera you have access to.

Or you can send the photos to me and I can do a high quality scan and return them.

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I can work with whatever form the photos are in. With my new upscaling tools I can even work with very low resolution images and get surprisingly good results.

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*Any* type of photo can be restored or improved. Even if was taken on your iPhone last week. If it is a special memory and you want the best version of that, I can help. I can also do re-editing. For example, if you have wedding photos and don't like how they were edited, I can match any style of editing you prefer.

For the initial evaluation you can just take quick smartphone pics and email them to me.

Please email any restoration inquiries to [email protected] and I will happily take a look.

Thanks for your interest!

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ltwilliammowett · 9 months

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Door no. 16 and today a very old lady shows up - but please do not believe that she is harmless. Her name "Old Ironside" is not without reason. I think you know who you have here - of course it's USS Constitution

USS Constitution, photo by Petty Officer 3rd Class Skyler Okerman, 2022

A few more infos about her:

Constitution, warship renowned in American history. One of the first frigates built for the U.S. Navy, she was launched in Boston, Massachusetts, on October 21, 1797; she is the world’s oldest commissioned warship afloat. (The HMS Victory is older (1765) but is preserved in a drydock at Portsmouth, England.)

The Constitution’s overall length is 204 feet (62 metres), its displacement is 2,200 tons, and its gun range is 1,200 yards (1,100 metres). The bolts fastening its timbers and copper sheathing on the bottom were made by the silversmith and patriot Paul Revere. Rated as a 44-gun frigate, it ordinarily carried more than 50 guns and a crew of some 450. Original cost of the vessel exceeded $300,000, including guns and equipment. In the successful war against the Tripoli pirates (1801–05), the Constitution was Commodore Edward Preble’s flagship, and the treaty of peace was signed aboard it. During the War of 1812 it achieved an enduring place in American naval tradition. On August 19, 1812, commanded by Captain Isaac Hull, it won a brilliant victory over the British frigate Guerriere. Tradition has it that during this encounter the American sailors, on seeing British shot failing to penetrate the oak sides of their ship, dubbed it “Old Ironsides.” Several other victories added to its fame. When in 1830 the ship was condemned as unseaworthy and recommended for breaking up, public sentiment was aroused by Oliver Wendell Holmes’s poem “Old Ironsides.”

The ship was preserved, its rebuilding was provided for in 1833, and in 1844 it began a circumnavigation of the globe. The Constitution was removed from active service in 1882, and in 1905 it was opened to the public in Boston Harbor. After a restoration (1927–31) the ship was recommissioned; although it did not sail under its own power, it called at 90 American ports on both coasts and was visited by more than 4.5 million people. Since 1934 it has been based at the Charlestown Navy Yard (now part of the Boston National Historic Park).

In celebration of its bicentennial, the newly renovated Constitution sailed again in July 1997. It also sailed in August 2012 to mark the 200th anniversary of its victory over the Guerriere during the War of 1812.

#naval history #naval artifacts #uss constitution #18th century #19th century #age of sail #advent calendar #day 16

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555bunnies · 1 year

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Never buy a 6 decades old stuffed animal filled with dirt… best mistake of my life

(Images of her irl + full story under the cut)

I’ve wanted a rubber faced doll ever since I discovered them back when I was in middle school. Their cute, slightly creepy appearance and interesting faces have always inspired and intrigued me. However, I had never had the chance to own one until now. Heck, before getting Rosy, I had never even seen one irl! I had only seen images of them online so I didn’t have any idea what to expect. How did their fabric and rubber faces feel? She wasn’t one of the famous Rushton star creation toys but that was fine with me since she was one of the cutest ones I had ever seen.

When she arrived, I opened the box and upon seeing her I flinched. Idk !! It’s kinda jarring seeing one of these creatures irl for the first time, I picked her up and upon further inspection she was EXTREMELY dusty/dirty. The listing did NOT show this or say anything warning about it in the description. Here is what she looked like upon arrival. The clean spot on her face in the second photo is where I passed my finger.

It was terrible, I knew she needed a nice wash. I thought maybe she was just a bit dusty… oh boy was I wrong. I decided to unstitch the seam on her back and remove the stuffing, this was the single most important step of the process because nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened next. THIS was what was inside when I opened her up:

Up until now, I still have no idea what this stuff was or is but she was totally full of it. Perhaps whatever was inside her had totally decomposed, but I don’t know what or how this could’ve happened. It was like DIRT or sand, or something. It was dark and very thin in texture. One of my friends said it looked like human ashes, which I hope was not the case. I doubt it though, since it was even lodged into her ears (her ears are hollow inside), while it’s possible that she could’ve been tampered with because the stitches on the back of her head were extremely sloppy and visible, some other images of these bunnies sometimes had similar stitching. It could’ve been anything really. Obviously I used a mask and gloves while removing this. I even made sure to turn her body totally inside out to make sure ALL of it was gone.

After that, I proceeded to give her a nice hand wash and brushed out her fur. You may notice a patch of it is missing near her arm but that was always there, it just wasn’t visible in the first image but the listing photos did show this. Then I set her to air dry on a hanger. I would recommend against this though since I believe her mid section was slightly stained by it when her pink back fur was pressed against the white on the front. The next day after I got home from school she was dry. I went out and got some new stuffing for her and stitched her back up. Here she is nice and new with a few other plush friends ! I decided to give her a little bow too.

Overall I’m super happy with how this restoration turned out, Rosy is absolutely perfect now! She is everything I could’ve wanted in a rubber faced doll. I’m still getting used to her presence but she makes me very happy and I feel like I did her a great service by restoring her and giving her a new loving home ^_^

#my art 🎀!#art #Rosy #rubber faced plush #plush restoration #rushton #vintage #restoration

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 months

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"People are so wrong to believe that a persistent revival and reassessment of the old plays will restore interest in our theatre, or that it will remind people of the power of the theatre to such a degree that they'll return to it. History only means anything to the present group of living people if it applies to their current lives. I'm speaking of cultural matters when I say this. Eventually, people will get tired of seeing the same plays over and over and over again: These plays should be brought out only intermittently as homage. They cannot be the foundation of our theatrical diet. When they are brought out, the greatest service they can perform is to inspire people to write, direct, and act with the terminal passion that existed at the creation of these plays. Otherwise, it's taxidermy. The theatre is headed, I'm afraid, for pure taxidermy."

Tennessee Williams/Interview with James Grissom/1982. Photo by Fred W. McDarrah.

(Follies of God)

#Follies of God #Tennessee Williams #James Grissom #Fred W. McDarrah #quotes #theatre #plays #history

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eregyrn-falls · 6 months

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Yurok tribal members lead a redwood canoe tour on the lower Klamath River on Tuesday, June 8, 2021, in Klamath, Calif. (AP Photo/Nathan Howard, File)

(I could have sworn I read this in a post on here, but I just cannot find it anywhere. So here it is... maybe again for some folks.)

California tribe that lost 90% of land during Gold Rush to get site to serve as gateway to redwoods

By Associated Press Laguna Beach

PUBLISHED 4:54 PM PT Mar. 19, 2024

Source.

California’s Yurok Tribe, which had 90% of its territory taken from it during the Gold Rush of the mid-1800s, will be getting a slice of its land back to serve as a new gateway to Redwood National and State Parks visited by 1 million people a year.

The tribe signed a memorandum of understanding Tuesday with California and the National Park Service for 125 acres in Humboldt County to be transferred to the Yurok in 2026 after the restoration of salmon habitat Officials say the tribe will be the first Native people to co-manage returned land with the National Park Service The arrangement with the Redwood National and State Parks and the nonprofit Save the Redwoods League is part of a growing Land Back movement It seeks to return Indigenous homelands to descendants of those who inhabited those areas long before European settlers arrived

The Yurok will be the first Native people to manage tribal land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed Tuesday by the tribe, Redwood National and State Parks and the nonprofit Save the Redwoods League.

The agreement “starts the process of changing the narrative about how, by whom and for whom we steward natural lands,” Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League, said in a statement.

The tribe will take ownership in 2026 of 125 acres near the tiny Northern California community of Orick in Humboldt County after restoration of a local tributary, Prairie Creek, is complete under the deal. The site will introduce visitors to Yurok customs, culture and history, the tribe said.

The area is home to the world’s tallest treees — some reaching more than 350 feet. It’s about a mile from the Pacific coast and adjacent to the Redwood National and State Parks, which includes one national park and three California state parks totaling nearly 132,000 acres.

The return of the land — named ’O Rew in the Yurok Language — more than a century after it was stolen from California’s largest tribe is proof of the “sheer will and perseverance of the Yurok people,” said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director. “We kind of don’t give up.”

For the tribe, redwoods are considered living beings and traditionally only fallen trees have been used to build their homes and canoes.

More below the cut:

This drone photo taken Monday, Jan. 29, 2024, shows the site of a salmon restoration project at Prairie Creek, which runs from Redwood National and State Parks, Calif., and flows through land that will be returned to the Yurok Tribe. (AP Photo/Terry Chea, File)

“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood National and State Parks to manage it,” Clayburn said. “This is work that we’ve always done, and continued to fight for, but I feel like the rest of world is catching up right now and starting to see that Native people know how to manage this land the best.”

The property is at the heart of the tribe’s ancestral land and was taken in the 1800s to exploit its old-growth redwoods and other natural resources, the tribe said. Save the Redwoods League bought the property in 2013 and began working with the tribe and others to restore it.

Much of the property was paved over by a lumber operation that worked there for 50 years and also buried Prairie Creek, where salmon would swim upstream from the Pacific to spawn.

A growing Land Back movement has been returning Indigenous homelands to the descendants of those who lived there for millennia before European settlers arrived. That has seen Native American tribes taking a greater role in restoring rivers and lands to how they were before they were expropriated.

Last week, a 2.2-acre parking lot was returned to the Ohlone people where they established the first human settlement beside San Francisco Bay 5,700 years ago. In 2022, more than 500 acres of redwood forest on the Lost Coast were returned to the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council, a group of 10 tribes.

The ’O Rew property represents just a tiny fraction of the more than 500,000 acres of the ancestral land of the Yurok, whose reservation straddles the lower 44 miles of the Klamath River. The Yurok tribe is also helping lead efforts in the largest dam removal project in U.S. history along the California-Oregon border to restore the Klamath and boost the salmon population.

Plans for ‘O Rew include a traditional Yurok village of redwood plank houses and a sweat house. There also will be a new visitor and cultural center displaying scores of sacred artefacts from deerskins to baskets that have been returned to the tribe from university and museum collections, Clayburn said.

The center, which will include information on the redwoods and forest restoration, also will serve as a hub for the tribe to carry out their traditions, she said.

It will add more than a mile of new trails, including a new segment of the California Coastal Trail, with interpretive exhibits. The trails will connect to many of the existing trails inside the parks, including to popular old-growth redwood groves.

This drone photo taken on Monday, Jan. 29, 2024, shows a salmon restoration project at Prairie Creek, which runs from Redwood National and State Parks, Calif., and flows through land that will be returned to the Yurok Tribe. (AP Photo/Terry Chea)

The tribe had already been restoring salmon habitat for three years on the property, building a meandering stream channel, two connected ponds and about 20 acres of floodplain while dismantling a defunct mill site. Crews also planted more than 50,000 native plants, including grass-like slough sedge, black cottonwood and coast redwood trees.

Salmon were once abundant in rivers and streams running through these redwood forests. But dams, logging, development and drought — due in part to climate change — have destroyed the waterways and threatened many of these species. Last year, recreational and commercial king salmon fishing seasons were closed along much of the West Coast due to near-record low numbers of the iconic fish returning to their spawning grounds.

Thousands of juvenile coho and chinook salmon and steelhead have already returned to Prairie Creek along with red-legged frogs, northwestern salamanders, waterfowl and other species.

Redwoods National Park Superintendent Steve Mietz praised the restoration of the area and its return to the tribe, saying it is “healing the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest.”

#redwoods #redwoods national park #yurok #yurok tribe #national parks #california #environmentalism #conservation #indigenous stories #some good news!#ids in alt

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sad-sad-detective · 1 year

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As promised, the ghouls + their hobbies:

Aether: postcrossing. It started when he received some postcards from Dew while the latter was touring with Terzo, and later grew into a full-blown hobby. Aether rents a post office box in a nearby city, so no threats to the anonymity. He likes music-related postcards and anything with cat pictures or food photos.

Dew: guitar repairing. First it was his job, now it is his passion. He loves to restore old acoustic guitars and help them sing again. Same for electric guitars and bass.

Cirrus: photography. She is fascinated with the very idea of catching a moment on film. When the band is touring, Cirrus takes her Instax camera with her and takes LOTS of pictures, and when she runs out of film, she makes it everybody's problem. At home, she also has a semi-pro camera. Cirrus likes to take it with her when she goes for walks in the local forest.

Cumulus: knitting. Cumulus finds it very relaxing. She makes blankets and shawls but her top project is making ugly New Year sweaters for all her packmates and Papa.

Swiss: book blogging. Who would have thought that he reads a shitton of romance novels? Well, he does and he has to scream about it. Swiss keeps a blog where he posts book reviews, he doesn't post often but when he does, it's always longreads about several books at once.

Mountain: bonsai. I know it's a common fanon but it just suits Mountain so good. He takes great care of his plants and even asks Rain to help maintaining room humidity for them. Besides, he likes hiking and sometimes joins Cirrus when she goes hunting with her camera.

Rain: movies. He's a movie nerd! Thank Gods below for streaming services, otherwise his room would be overloaded with DVDs (which he actually has along with the DVD player). He also has a broken VCR and always asks Dew to repair it (Dew doesn't know how).

Sunshine: junk journals. Her journals look chaotic but isn't it the point? She collects anything she can use, and her desk is a mess of papers from magazines, brochures, music sheets etc. She even tried to steal some of Aether's postcards for her journals.

Phantom: he's still trying to understand the concept of hobby. Sometimes he joins Rain for a movie or tags along with Mountain and Cirrus during their walks or watches Cumulus knitting (she offered to teach him, and he agreed) but he does it mostly to spend time with his packmates.

Aurora: nail or rather, claw art. During her first days on the Surface she noticed people with colorful nails and was very curious: were they born like this? Did they do it themselves? Could she have her claws like this too? And this is how her passion was born. Now she does her packmates' claws. Aurora even offered to do Papa's nails but he politely refused.

Also, all ghouls share a passion for board games. Cumulus is an absolute champion in Munchkin, and Mountain is a king of Snakes and Ladders. Copia strictly forbade them to play cards though, he's afraid it may end up in bloodshed.

#nameless ghouls #ghoul headcanons #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #aurora ghoulette

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usafphantom2 · 6 months

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Restoration of the Smithsonian’s Ilyushin Il-2 Shturmovik

March 27, 2024 Vintage Aviation News Warbird Restorations 0

Ilyushin Il-2 Shturmovik arrived at the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar at the Steven F Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA. November 18, 2021. (Smithsonian photo by Mark Avino)

United Fuel Cells

By Adam Estes

In the desperate and cataclysmic struggle that was the Eastern Front of World War II, which the countries of the former Soviet Union still call the Great Patriotic War, the Ilyushin Il-2 Shturmovik (Shturmovik being a general term for attack aircraft in the Soviet Air Forces) was deemed by Stalin to be just as vital to the Red Army as air and bread. Designed by a team led by Sergey Ilyushin in 1938, the prototype for what would become the Il-2, then called the TsKB-57, first flew a year later in 1939 and was just beginning to enter production and operational service when Nazi Germany invaded the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941. As the relatively few Shturmoviks built up to that point where rushed into service, most of the factories tasked with building the Il-2s were forced to hastily relocate east of the Ural Mountains, where unskilled workers struggled to keep up with the production quotas sent from the Kremlin, but as the tide of war turned in the Soviets favor, the Shturmovik, much like the T-34 medium tank, would meet the Germans with numbers and determination. They were flown by crews from across the Soviet Union, who served as pilots and rear gunners, while ground crews worked tirelessly to repair and rearm Shturmoviks returning from the front.

Over 36,000 Il-2s of both single-seater and two-seater varieties were manufactured, making it the single-most produced military aircraft in aviation history. With its armored cockpit and engine compartment and wide array of armaments, from 23mm cannons to unguided rockets and various types of anti-personnel and anti-vehicle bombs, the Il-2s provided close air support for Soviet infantry and armored units, and were a vital part of Soviet military aviation, from the defense of Moscow to the Battle of Berlin. After the collapse of Nazi Germany, many Il-2s were exported to the Soviet Union’s new satellite states, such as Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland, Mongolia, and Yugoslavia (though this latter state would soon become a non-aligned nation during the Cold War). The Il-2, which would be codenamed the “Bark” by NATO, also led to the development of the Il-10 (NATO codename “Beast”), which served not only in the latter stages of World War II but in the Korean War as well. A number of Shturmoviks can be found in museums in Eastern Europe, though three examples have made their way to the United States since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, including a single example currently under restoration at the National Air and Space Museum’s Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, Virginia.

The Museum’s Shturmovik at its current location at the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration, and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland. Image by Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum

The identity of the Shturmovik in the Smithsonian is still surrounded by mystery and ambiguity. It is a composite aircraft made from the remains of three or four Shturmoviks recovered from the bottom of lakes near Leningrad and Murmansk in the early 1990s. With the fall of the Iron Curtain t, it suddenly became easier for Western warbird collectors and restorers to recover wrecks of German and Soviet aircraft from the battlefields of the Great Patriotic War. In addition, it opened once-classified former Soviet archives to Western historians. And while more wrecks would be recovered up to the present day, the current situation with the Russo-Ukrainian War and the subsequent sanctions from NATO countries in response to Russia’s aggression has made it increasingly difficult for old wrecks to leave Russia or for Western scholars to visit those same archives.

However, during the 1990s, a Russian team of restorers would reassemble a Shturmovik in St. Petersburg (formerly Leningrad) out of several recovered wrecks. At the time, the Smithsonian was informed by Russian sources that the basis for their Shturmovik had been one that had been shot down on the Leningrad front on March 15, 1944 while being flown, and was being flown by Lt. Ivan Maksimovih Andreyev and Sgt. Goncharov. Later investigative work has revealed that there was little information to substantiate the story, and with no data plates recovered from the wrecks, the National Air and Space Museum has since retracted their earlier stance. Another complicating factor in terms of the restoration was the way in which the aircraft was assembled in Russia. In the article The Flying Tank, written by James R. Chiles in the June 2022 issue of Air and Space Quarterly, restorer Bill Hadden said, “It appears that they used paint stripper and sand blasting and whatever was needed to remove corrosion and old paint before rebuilding the airplane…. For instance, the serial number was painted on in several places when they were manufactured…. With essentially all the original paint removed, we may never know the identity of our airplane or its particular service history.” Nevertheless, the Russians installed an original, albiet non-operational, Mikulin AM-38 V-12 inline engine, reassembled the landing gear, and refurbished the cockpit. After decades of submersion in the frigid Russian waters, the wooden tail assembly had fallen apart, so a new assembly was built. Following all of this, the reassembled Shturmovik was coated in primer, but the final paint scheme was never completed because a deal had been made for the Smithsonian in a trade agreement.

A view inside the cockpit of the Museum’s Il-2 Shturmovik. Image by Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum

In the spring of 1995, the still-unpainted Shturmovik arrived at the Paul E. Garber Preservation, Restoration, and Storage Facility in Suitland, Maryland. At the time it had gone to the Garber Facility, aviation enthusiasts could go on pre-arranged, docent-led public tours of the facility’s numerous warehouses and its restoration shop. But in 2003, with the opening of the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center near Dulles International Airport in Chantilly, Virginia, the tours gradually came to an end, and those aircraft that had not gone to Dulles before the opening of the massive new museum would remain at Garber, away from public view.

The beginning of the ongoing renovations to the National Mall location would see some aircraft pulled out of Garber to be eventually displayed either at the National Mall or at the Udvar-Hazy Center, and with a new layout in store for the museum’s World War II in the Air gallery, the Smithsonian’s Shturmovik seemed the perfect fit to bring light to the Soviet perspective of World War II aviation. On November 18, 2021, the Il-2 arrived at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center’s Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar, where visitors can view the ongoing restoration projects from a second-story glass mezzanine.

Overhead view of Museum Specialist Jay Flanagan working on the new tail section of the fuselage he is building for the Ilyushin IL-2 Shturmovik in the background, while Museum Specialist Bill Hadden works on the horizontal stabilizer in the background in the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA. Image by Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum

After it arrived in the Engen Restoration Hangar, NASM restoration specialists began analyzing the Shturmovik and preparing it for restoration. In this evaluation, the wooden tail reproduced by the Russian team in St. Petersburg was considered to be a poor facsimile with numerous structural problems. Luckily for the Smithsonian, enthusiasts of the Shturmovik were willing to help, providing access to manuals and reference materials, which would provide valuable information once translated into English.

The restoration staff has received further assistance from the Pima Air and Space Museum of Tucson, Arizona, which is home to another Il-2 recovered from the Eastern Front. Pima provided the NASM restoration team with digital copies of their engineering drawings used in their own restoration. These have been especially helpful in the refabrication of the tail action, which differs only from those built in wartime Soviet factories with the use of modern epoxy resin as opposed to water-based wood glues.

Museum Specialist Tony Hare adjusts the landing gear flaps for the Ilyushin IL-2 Shturmovik in the Mary Baker Engen Restoration Hangar at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center in Chantilly, VA. Image by Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum

The restoration has also revealed traces of the original paint on several components, with the standard black, brown/tan, and green scheme on the upper surfaces of the aircraft, and the light blue paint on the underside. The Smithsonian intends to replicate this scheme, which was common on most Shturmoviks of the mid to late-war period. Other discoveries made during the restoration have led NASM officials to conclude that the aircraft was assembled in late 1943 at Zavod No.18 (Factory No.18) at Samara (known during the days of the USSR as Kuybyshev).

When the Shturmovik is complete, it will be placed on public display for the first time at the National Mall location’s upcoming Jay I. Kislak World War II in the Air Gallery alongside several other aircraft, including the Messerschmitt Bf 109G-6 flown by French defector René Darbois (previously covered here: Smithsonian’s Bf 109 Unveils a Hidden Story of Resistance ), the museum’s North American P-51D Mustang and General Motors FM-1 Wildcat.

With the IL-2, the Soviet perspective of WWII/Great Patriotic War, made all the more prescient by the current war between Russia and Ukraine being fought on some of the same battlefields in which Soviet aircrews flew their Shturmoviks against the Germans, can be told in ways that the original gallery, opened in 1976, was unable to do. Among the stories of Soviet aircrews that the museum intends to highlight is that of Anna Yegorova, who after flying reconnaissance missions in the Polikarpov U-2/Po-2 biplane, would fly 41 of her 277 combat missions in Shturmoviks until she was shot down in August 1944, and was held as a prisoner in the Küstrin sub-camp of the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, until it was liberatedin January 1945. Like many Soviet POWs, Yegorova was interrogated by the NKVD, and it would be twenty years before she was awarded the Hero of the Soviet Union, the country’s highest military decoration.

Besides the example being restored at the National Air and Space Museum, there are two more Il-2s in the United States. Il-2m3 s/n 305401 has been restored to airworthiness at the Flying Heritage and Combat Armor Museum in Everett, Washington, along with parts of three other Shturmovik wrecks and powered by a Jose Flores-built Allison V-1710 in lieu of the original Mikulin AM-38 V-12 engine. The other is the aforementioned example in the Pima Air and Space Museum in Tucson, Arizona, and is currently on static display in the museum’s Hangar 3.

For more information on the Shturmovik and other projects, visit Homepage | National Air and Space Museum (si.edu).

Special thanks to Dr. Alex Spencer for his contributions to the making of this article.

@Vintageavaitionnews via X

#il2 #ww2 #russian air force #bomber

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